France's Cousin? I Think Not!
by SilverDropsOfPlatinumInTheRain
Summary: "Your cousin Francis? Are you sure? He looks like Iggy. Hell, he has Iggy's accent, his looks, even his eyebrows! He's like a mini Iggy. Wait...Is this Arthur's child!" Things are never easy when you have idiots looking after you.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first fanfic with this particular pairing. I'm hoping I got their personalities right, but I'm already warning you for OOCness in case I didn't. Reviews, like always, are appreciated greatly.**

**.:|Silver|:.**

**Disclaimer: I am a girl. The makers of Hetalia are men. Therefore I am not the owner of Hetalia.**

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><p>"No!"<p>

"_Mais, Angleterre, _you 'ave to underst-"

"No! I don't want to!"

"But-"

"NO!"

France sighed, glaring at the toddler sitting in front of him. England glared right back, crossing his arms and giving evil looks. It looked pretty strange coming from a three year old. "But, England, I think you should listen to France," said Canada quietly. The green eyed boy looked at Canada and frowned slightly, his gaze softening. "Only because you're nice to me," he conceded, letting France move closer to him. The Frenchman let out a joyous manly (very manly) squeal and hugged the little boy, planting a kiss on his head. "_Merci!_ I will not disappoint you," he promised, picking Arthur and waltzing up to the bathroom. And then began the screams of protest. Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes. _Children._

To understand what's been going on, let's rewind to a few hours ago. Okay?

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><p><em><strong>.<strong>__**·* ·.**__**FLASHBACK.**__** ·*·.**_

_Arthur glared at France and Canada, crossing his arms. "Let me get this straight. You both want to me to show you that I can indeed do magic?" he asked slowly. Canada bit his lip. "Well, England, I believe you and all, but I would really like some proof, eh?" he said softly. England's eyes softened. The boy had manners. Francis, on the other hand, was scoffing. "I cannot believe your foolish fantasy, _mon cher_," he stated. The Englishman scowled and stormed over to his wand, deciding to cast an _Age Reversing _spell on Francis. It would be better like that. "Okay. Just you both wait." He pointed his wand at a suddenly terrified looking France and started chanting under his breath. He could be creepy when he wanted to, that was for sure. It seemed like even the lights were deciding to help him out by flickering on and off and lending the room an evil aura. "-and poison mild, turn this man into a child," he completed, flicking his wand in Francis' direction. The Frenchman yelped, bringing his arms up to hide his face. But the hit never came. He slowly, cautiously, lowered his arms to find Canada holding up a reflective place in front of him, cowering behind the plate himself. There was a short silence in the room before it was broken by a cry of surprise. Both the French speaking males looked at each other before the younger lowered the plate and peered ahead. The lights brightened and the smoke cleared to reveal a small boy dressed in huge military clothes. "England?" chorused both the nations. The small island nation looked up, his eyes widening. "Bloody hell! I'm a child again!" There was as short silence before France carefully moved forward, crouching in front of the island._

"_Arthur? What 'appened to you?" he asked, his voice colored with awe as he reached out and tousled the smaller nation's hair. Said nation just scowled and pushed his hand away. "My magic rebounded. Great. Now I'm a child," he grumbled, sitting down with a slight pout. He was taking it surprisingly well for someone who had just been changed into a child. _

"_England?" asked Canada cautiously, looking down at the child. Britain craned his neck up and furrowed his eyebrows. _

"_Yes?"_

"_I'm sorry. It was my fault wasn't it?"_

"_Its okay, Matthew. I'll be okay," he comforted, wrinkling his nose. "My voice is so…squeaky," he commented, his British accent thicker than ever. The young child sighed and shifted, moving over to his book shelf here he gazed up at with irritation. "Can you get the black book out? The one with silver writing down its spine. Yes, that one, no, the other one with the blood on it too," he instructed. France was rather freaked out. The book looked strange too. It was covered with runes. However, the island nation easily read something that looked like the contents before flipping to some page. He traced his finger under the line he was reading, scowling a bit more as he read. The more he read, the testier he seemed to get, finally looking like the old England. The one who was rather temperamental. England let out a frustrated sound, throwing the book as hard as he could to the wall. It barely made it, flopping down near the Canadian's feet. Said Canadian bit his lip nervously and looked at France. The blue eyed man simply looked at Arthur intently. _

"_What 'appened, _mon amour_?" _

_There was a short silence before the toddler shouted curses and punched the Frenchman as hard as he could, screaming about unknown ingredients and other stuff. Half of it sounded Irish. The man being beat up sighed, letting the tiny fists punch him until the child flopped down wearily. _

"_I can't get three of the bloody ingredients," he said bluntly, glaring at the walls. There was a widening of blue and violet eyes. The owners of the pairs of eyes glanced at each other apprehensively. _

"_Why not?" Asked Matthew quietly. Arthur looked up at him, his anger starting to fade, and sighed. _

"_Well, one can only be found in Russia, the other two are practically bloody extinct," he grumbled, crossing his arms and pouting. He didn't seem to realize he was doing it and Francis didn't want to tell him that. There was another silence as everyone absorbed the news. Then Francis tried for optimism. "We'll manage. But for now…you need clothes." This made both the other nations look at the bearded man warily. He seemed to have an excited gaze. This wasn't going to end well. _

_After a lot of threatening, pouting (both France and England), shouting, screaming and shouting, they finally came to the present time situation._

_**.**__**·* ·.**__**FLASHBACK.**__** ·*·.**_

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><p>The screams died down as the Canadian bustled around the kitchen, preparing an explanation for his brother. "What do you think I should say?" he asked his polar bear, stirring the pot of stew France had left for him to tend.<p>

"Just tell the git I'm your cousin or something," replied a voice. Canada whirled around to look at the little boy dressed in a Union Jack t-shirt and wearing adorable denim shorts. _Where had he gotten the clothes?_ France appeared behind Arthur, grinning smugly as he scooped the boy up and planted a kiss on his cheek, easily carrying him over to Canada despite his protests of not wanting to be picked up. The Canadian ruffled the little Brit's hair and smiled, turning back to the stew.

"You think Alfred is that dense, eh?" he asked. There were two nods from his ex-caretakers. No matter how much he loved his brother, it was true. As if called, the door flew open and a boisterous voice announced itself.

"Yo! Mattie? Francey? Iggy?" called America. Arthur cringed and unconsciously moved closer to the Frenchman who was still holding him. France suppressed a surprised smirk at this. The blond rushed into the room, his cowlick bobbing and one strand defying gravity as usual as he rushed to grab his brother in a hug.

"MATTIE! Man, I missed ya dude!"

"I missed you too, Al. I-"

Whatever Canada had been about to say was cut off as the American finally noticed the child in Francis' arms. England and America stared at each other for a while, both of them sizing the other up. Alfred was the first one to crack a smile. "Hey little man! He's yours Francis?" he asked curiously. The three other nations in the room quickly made eye contact and came to an agreement.

"_Oui. _'e's my little cousin," said the Frenchman quickly, giving a convincing smile. Alfred chuckled.

"He's pretty cute. What's his name?"

At this Arthur decided to speak. "You can ask me you know," he said haughtiy. Well, as haughtily as he could. That's when he remembered his accent. Well, there was nothing he could do about _that_. Matthew gave a silent sigh behind his brother's back, shaking his head at France. America raised his eyebrows.

"Whoa, France, dude, his accent is totally like Iggy's," he exclaimed, grinning and holding his arms out. "Can I hold him?" France shrugged and handed the toddler over. Britain scowled, crossing his arms as America observed him carefully. "He's even got Iggy's eyebrows. Are you sure he's your cousin? He seems more like a miniature version of… Wait! Is this Arthur's kid?"

Canada face palmed. Yep, this was going to be a hard with his brother around.

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><p><strong>What do you guys think? Can you grace me with your reviews? Flames are welcome too.<strong>

**.:|Silver|:.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Silver again! So, I'm here to continue with the story! I loved the reviews and would love to have more! Please keep reviewing! You guys make my day!**

**.:|Silver|:.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Hetalia…**

America sat in the living room, staring blankly at the three other nations opposite him. "So let me get this straight. Iggy turned himself into a kid…via magic?" he asked incredulously. The island nation snorted from his spot between Canada and France. He seemed to have developed some kind of bond with the Frenchman and the Canadian.

"Don't sound so incredulous about it, you bloody git. I'm sitting in front of you, aren't I?" France chuckled, tousling the smaller blond's hair and receiving a scowl in return. He had to admit, Arthur looked incredibly cute as a child. Alfred studied the child, a slow grin spreading over his face.

"God Arthur! You're so…small!" he exclaimed, moving swiftly to crouch in front of the smaller nation and grin at him. Arthur scowled, glaring fiercely. _Who did he think he was? Sure, he had turned into a kid, but that didn't mean he could use that against him._

"I'm still older than you, twit. And I can't count on your help in this…situation anyways," snapped the toddler, crossing his arms. Francis rolled his eyes. Arthur still needed the help. Plus, the threat was rather empty.

"_Angleterre_, you and I both know zat you need _Amerique's _'elp. So why don't we all settle down like the mature nations we are and go get somezing to eat? I'm sure you're all 'ungry," suggested France. All the nations nodded, following France to the kitchen. America took this chance to scoop the smaller nation in his arms and to grin at his ex-caretaker.

"Ya look adorable, Iggy!" he said cheerfully. England struggled in his grasp, trying to get the bigger nation to put him down.

"Alfred! Put me down this instant! This is a disgrace to m-" Whatever he was about to say was cut off as he was set down on a chair. The toddler glared and looked towards France.

"He picked me up! Tell him not to do it!" he whined. Alfred pouted, turning to France too.

"But he's a _kid!_ I wanted to!" he whined too. Canada sighed. It seemed like he and France were the only ones mature enough for this. France rolled his eyes as he cooked.

"I do not care. Alfred, do not pick Arthur up. Arthur, do not whine. It is unbecoming," he said firmly. The Englishman grumbled something but didn't say anything. A point which America was quick to point out.

"Hey, Iggy! Why didn't you say anything to him? He just…_scolded you._" All he got was a green eyed glare and a cup thrown at his head. But, to his credit, he didn't flinch. After all, he _was _the hero.

"It doesn't matter what the frog says. He's taken care of me before too and I rather trust him," said the Brit, turning to France who raised an eyebrow. The toddler was quick to put on an absolutely angelic face, as if he hadn't even thrown the cup.

"Yes?" he asked France, his voice sickly sweet and innocent. Even America almost believed that the child hadn't done anything wrong.

"Whoa, Iggy! I never knew you could _do _that! You have _got_ to teach me how to sound that innocent," he marveled. Matthew hit his brother on the head and picked Britain up and out of the chair, setting him on the floor and then looking at Alfred.

"Can you take Arthur to the living room and watch a movie with him while we cook?" asked Matt, gently pushing both his brothers away. America nodded, swinging Arthur up and taking him to the living room.

"You can pick the movie out Artie!"

"MY NAME IS ARTHUR!"

About half an hour later, both the blonds in the living room were sitting quietly and both the French speaking nations were growing a bit worried. And the worry quickly turned into concern when they heard twin shrieks from the other room. France's eyes widened and he glanced at Canada before rushing to the other room with the younger nation following.

The sight before them was, in retrospect, rather funny. Both the blonds were sitting huddled on the couch under a pile of blankets, the toddler on the American's lap, and both of them hiding their eyes from the screen. On the TV played a French horror movie (dubbed in English). Both the nations in the blankets were trembling as the gruesome pictures on the screen continued. Francis recognized the movie and quickly turned it off, striding in front of both of them and pulling the blankets off. America clutched England tighter to himself and they both let out terrified screams.

"IT'S HIM!" They wailed, hiding again. Canada pushed the Frenchman away and moved to both his brothers, mumbling soothing words s he pried Arthur away from his brother's death grip and handed him over to the long haired blond. Arthur's ex-caretaker held him close, letting the little nation hide his face in his neck.

"It's okay Arthur. It was just a movie," he soothed. Canada was using a similar tactic on his brother who had him in a hug.

"Oh god Mattie, it was so messed up. I didn't know French people could even _do_ that," whispered Alfred hoarsely, squeezing his brother more tightly. "I want Arthur right now. Like, big Iggy," he whimpered. France, who had managed to slightly calm the hysterical child, moved to sit on the couch with Alfred who immediately clung to him. The oldest nation raised an eyebrow but didn't move him away.

"Why were you even watching zat 'orror movie?" he asked, hugging the child in his arms as he broke out into a fit of shudders.

"Arthur s-said he didn't get freaked out by horror movies," confessed America, squirming closer to Francis and looking around the room worriedly.

"Let's have dinner," announced Canada, who had seemed to vanish and reappear in a matter of seconds. Arthur and Alfred let out shrieks again, jumping violently and moving even closer to France. The nation, for his part, mumbled soothing French words to England, giving him a kiss on his head. "Come on, _Angleterre_. Let's eat dinner," he said, carrying the child to the kitchen. After a fairly silent dinner in which two nations, I'm sure you can guess who, were jumping at every noise, it was time for bed.

Canada was a bit worried. He thought that it seemed like England's mind had reverted to a kid's mind during the movie. But he couldn't be too sure. The said toddler was hesitating before he tugged on Matthew's pants. "Matthew? Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asked quietly. The violet eyed man was surprised. A small smile graced his lips.

"I would love it Arthur. But unfortunately Alfred asked me first. Should I ask Francis for you, eh?" The smaller nation bit his lip before nodding. Canada smiled down and turned to Francis already there.

"Come on, _Angleterre._ _Nous allons dormir, d'accord? _"

Britain nodded, relaxing as France picked him up and whisked him into his room.

"_Bonne nuit, mes enfants!" _he called, setting England down on the bed in England's guestroom. "Come on. I won't leave you." Britain nodde, changing into the pajamas his caretaker handed him, and changed into them. He was rather glad for having someone to sleep with him, even though he couldn't understand why he ad freaked out like that. After all, he had watched scarier movies. But he gave up on those thought on concentrated on the breathing of his caretaker as he closed his eyes. Yes, he could think about it later.

**How was it? Reviews please?**

**~Ren**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys! I'm quite excited to continue writing this. I've seen that I've got many hits but less reviews. Seriously, it's okay. Before I made an account, I used to do the same thing, read stories and not leave reviews. I understand. A few reviews would be nice though…I really have no idea on what to write later on. They're going to go world conference!**

**Please review!**

**.:|Silver|:.**

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><p>Hectic. That was the only way to describe the morning. France was rushing around, trying to cook and handle Arthur at the same time. England, for his part, was already dressed and scowling at the table, his arms crossed. He hadn't put that much of a struggle up when France had informed him about the world conference. He had taken it rather well; the only hitch in the plans was what they would tell the other nations. Right now, England was sitting at the kitchen table, morosely prodding at his crepes. "I'm not hungry anymore," he informed Francis as the long haired blond sat down, completely dressed in a nice suit.<p>

"What? Why not? You 'ave to eat, _Angleterre._ You are a growing child," replied the man, sitting down next to the toddler and smiling slightly. "And if you do not eat zem, I will feed you." That was enough for motivation. The smaller nation quickly started eating, pausing as America entered the room in his usual bomber jacket. He gave Britain a small smile, sitting down and digging into his own food with a muffled thanks. Canada sat down at the table too, pouring maple syrup over his crepes and thanking his ex-caretaker and eating his own food.

"What the bloody hell are we going to tell the others?" asked Arthur, glaring at the table and pushing his empty plate away. The three other nations looked at him thoughtfully.

"'e can be _mon cousin_."

"We can say he's an orphan we found who looks an awful lot like Arthur."

"We can say Iggy knocked some girl up."

Suffice to say, the Englishman wasn't amused with the answers. "I think we'll have to-" Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as the door slammed open.

"Oi! Arthur? Are ya in 'ere? Don' tell me yerna 'ere!" he called. Arthur couldn't help the shout he gave. It was part excitement and part fear.

"Scottie!" he yelped. There was a silence and then the Scot came into the kitchen, staring blankly at the toddler who was trying very hard to hide in France's suit jacket.

"Artie?" England looked up at that, a hesitant look on his face as his brother broke out into a grin and then a laugh.

"Wha' didja do ta yerself, laddy? Las' time ah saw ya, ye were older than this," remarked the redhead, scooping his little brother up and smiling slightly. Almost fatherly. But Arthur couldn't help feel a bit afraid even though he knew that Scotland had changed…a bit. The Scottish man noticed and tousled his younger brother's hair.

"Its great ta see ya like this. Reminds me o' when we all were young. All o' us wee lads," he sighed, a faint grin in face. He finally looked towards the other nations on the room, hi grip on Arthur tightening.

"And just how didja'll get 'ere? An' why is Francy takin' care o' mah little brotha?" he demanded. England finally growled, getting attention from all the adults in the kitchen.

"They are here because they wanted to see me try a spell. Well, at least Canada and France did. I accidentally turned myself into a bloody child and then America came along. And we have a world conference to go to now," he replied, sighing and squirming in his brother's grip.

"Can you put me down now?"

The redhead chuckled, setting the toddler on the table where he promptly seized a chocolatine from America's place. Both the nation started quarrelling like children and pouting while the other three rolled their eyes.

"Enough, eh? We still have to get to France!" said Matthew, making the American and the Englishman pout and cross their arms. Francis looked towards Scotland.

"And why are you 'ere? Did _Angleterre _call you?"

"No. 'e said 'e was going ta take me with 'im for the meetin'. I needed ta mention a few things, I did."

The Frenchman nodded and led everyone out of the house, Britain in his brother's arms securely. The Scottish man handed the younger Kirkland to Canada, getting into one of England's cars.

"I'll drive. Ya people don' know how ta drive at all. Drive on the wrong sida the road all the time," he grumbled, watching the other nations buckle up. "Hold onta yer ears, eh?"

And they shot down the street.

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><p><strong>En route to the meeting, which was coincidentally, being held in France…<strong>

"Are we there yet?" asked England for the umpteenth time in the car ride. Scotland rolled his eye, catching his brother's gaze in the rear view mirror. "Ask me tha' again an' I'll throw ya out o' the car. I ken do tha' an' I will," he threatened, returning his gaze to the road and driving. The toddler pouted, crossing his arms and leaning back against America. He had been rather energetic the whole ride and had kept switching seats, finally ending up on America's lap and staring out of the window. The American smiled slightly at his former caretaker's head and watched him. "Do you want to play a game, Iggy?"

"Bloody hell, yes!"

"Language!" chorused the two French speaking countries and Scotland. England rolled his eyes and looked at America eagerly.

"Game?"

"Yeah! Let's play I spy! You can start! But only thing outside the car and that you can see."

"Okay! I spy something beginning with the letter R!"

This continued for a long time until Arthur had somehow switched to sitting against the Canadian, curled up with his head resting on Matthew's chest and one hand clutching he red hoodie. "Ah, 'e can be so innocent looking when 'e sleeps," mused France, who was sitting in the passenger's seat and guiding Scotland. The Canadian smiled slightly.

"Yes. It's hard to believe he can be strict when he's like this."

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><p>The rest of the trip went in silence and after a couple of hours, they all were standing outside the French nation's house. He smiled, throwing the doors open.<p>

"_Bienvenue! Bienvenue chez moi!" _he said enthusiastically. Canada smiled.

"_La maison est la même que je souvienne." _France smiled at his former charge and suddenly his eyes widened.

"Where is Arthur?" America snorted.

"Wow France. How can you even forget something that important? He's with me. Old Scottie went to get something from some shop. I think tea for Artie."

"My name isn't Artie," mumbled Arthur sleepily, running a hand through his hair and holding his arms out to Francis. The man complied, picking him up and planting a kiss on his head, leading all his guests to the living room. "You all must be 'ungry, _non?_ I'll make some _delicieux_ soup. And we can have _mon gateau de chocolat_, for dessert." With that he went to the kitchen, locking the others out and saying something that sounded like, 'home sweet home'.

The two brothers sat silently for a while until Alfred busied himself with turning the TV on and changing the settings to English. He put on a movie, Indiana Jones, and sat down to gawk at his own country's awesomeness. Britain grabbed the remote, changing the channel to an ice hockey match which grabbed Canada's attention and then began the fight for the remote.

"Wha' is goin' on in 'ere? Why are ya all fightin' like a bunch o' dogs?" growled Scot England immediately put on his angelic face, adding unshed tears for the effect.

"They won't let me watch telly," he said, his voice trembling. The two blond brothers gaped at him, wondering how the child was so quick at changing facades.

"Is tha' right? Ya both makin' me little brotha cry?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The other two shook their heads rapidly.

"Artie, ya really got ta remember tha' I faced yer tactics before. We both know tha' ya ken be all angelic. Come now, I got tea." That made the toddler forget about everything as he followed his brother to the kitchen with an excited shout of 'tea!'

America and Canada looked at each other. "That kid can get everyone against us, eh?"

"Agreed."

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><p><strong>What do you guys think? Good? Not good? Any ideas? Review!<strong>

**.:|Silver|:.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for the reviews! I just love brotherly Allistor (Scotland) and France! Keep reviewing.**

**.:|Silver|:.**

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><p>France opened his eyes sleepily, turning the alarm off and mumbling a string of curses. He yawned and looked down to find Arthur in his bed again. A small smile flitted across his face. The moment was ruined as Scotland threw open the door, searching for his younger brother. His eyes narrowed as he saw his host staring at said toddler. "Oi! Wha's 'e doin' in yer bed, ya pedophile?" he growled, stalking into the room. Francis shrugged, getting out of the bed and tucking the child in before escorting the angry Scottish man outside.<p>

"Let's go outside, _non? _We wouldn't want to wake _Angleterre_." Once outside, the Frenchman yawned again, stumbling down the kitchen. His gaze flitted to the clock. _Hmmm, sept heures,_ he mused. Then he did a doubletake. "_SEPT HEURES! Nous allons etre en retard!_" shrieked France, rushing into the kitchen to find Canada feeding Alfred. Both were already dressed and were just finishing up with breakfast. Matthew raised his eyebrows but shot his ex-caretaker a soothing look.

"_Calmez-vous_. I already made breakfast and dressed America," said the Canadian calmly. France didn't look convinced and he proceeded to rush back up the stairs to fly into his room and wake Arthur up.

"_Angleterre! Angleterre!_ Wake up! We are going to be late!" said the long haired blond, shaking the child gently. England turned over with a snort, but otherwise continued sleeping. After a couple of French curses, the man quickly took a shower, pulled on a stylish outfit and returned to find Allistor helping a slightly sleepy England into a pair of cargo shorts and a white, half sleeve, button down.

"There ya go. Tha' wasn' so bad, now was it? Come on. We still hafta ge' doown stairs fer breakfas'," said Scotland, glancing up at France and nodding as he took England down.

France snorted, quickly putting on his cologne and rushing down to have his hasty breakfast. He ate fast, barely taking time to savor the food, and soon rushed all the others into his car, driving them all to the building with minutes to spare.

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><p><strong>In front of the meeting hall…<strong>

Francis, Matthew, Alfred, Allistor and Arthur stood outside the meeting hall nervously. "What's ze excuse again?" asked France nervously. Before America could reply, the door swung open and Norway was staring at all of them.

"What are you all doing?" he finally asked, eyeing the toddler curiously. The Scotsman managed a small smile.

"'ello Lukas! Grea' ta see ya 'ere. Now, if ya don' mind…" The Norwegian crossed his arms, not moving from the door. A small crowd began to collect being the Baltic man.

"Good to see you too Allistor. Would you mind telling me why there is a child here?"

Pin drop silence. France gave a nervous laugh.

"You mean ze little boy zere? 'e is _mon cousin_," he said. All he countries gave him incredulously looks.

"France is joking. We found him in a box…" trailed of Canada, giving an uneasy look. Alfred just laughed, his usual obnoxious laugh, as he held the toddler out.

"Iggy knocked some girl up."

The room erupted into chaos, England punching Alfred's head repeatedly and shouting curses. The American yelped, holding the angry toddler away from himself and groaning at the swat he received from Allistor. This was going to be a bad day…

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><p><strong>About an hour into the meeting…<strong>

Everyone had been settled down relatively fast, especially after the promise that all the nations would be allowed to play with 'Arthur's son' during the lunch break. Currently, Arthur was sitting with France, or more accurately, in France's lap, with meeting papers spread out in front of him. Italy, who was sitting next to France though this was rather cute and leaned over to tousle the toddler's hair with a smile.

"Hey France! You never told me what his name was, Ve!" whispered the Italian, giving the child a wide grin. England managed a smile, trying not to appear bored though he couldn't hide a yawn. Francis thought quickly. _A name, un nom… what name?_

"Oh, I apologize for not telling you. His name is…Asher," he said. Britain gave the smallest of approving nods. America, who was at the podium, paused in his talking to watch Arthur yawn. It seemed like he was getting bored. Russia followed his gaze and smiled a rather creepy smile before leaning over to France.

"I can see Arthur, _da?_" he asked, smiling in that strangely creepy yet innocent way of his. The Frenchman hesitated before handing Arthur over to him. Surprisingly, he didn't attempt anything with the child, even going so far as to let the small nation hold his broken pipe and wave it around.

"_Gott!_ Don't give that to a child!" snapped Prussia, snatching the pipe away and pulling Arthur to himself. Allistor, who was now up on the podium, gave his little brother a snort and a pointed look before demanding the attention of the nations as he spoke. No one seemed to have noticed England's absence then.

Gilbert huffed and looked down at the toddler who seemed to be a bit upset over losing the pipe.

"Why did you take it from me? I was playing with it," whined the child, pouting and crossing his arms. "And I might have even managed to poke someone in the eyes with it as an added bonus." Russia chuckled.

"I like this boy very much. He can become one with Russia, _da?_"

Arthur just gave him an uneasy look before turning puppy eyes to Prussia. The German nation snorted, picking the child up and setting him down on his lap. "That doesn't vork on me, kiddo. _Mein bruder_ vas the same as you vhen he vas small. Using his eyes to his advantage. Come on, just sit qvietly and play vith Gilbird," he suggested, putting the yellow bird down. England studied the little bird before shaking his head.

"I don't like birds. May I go sit with Scotland please?"

The Prussian rolled his eyes and set Arthur on the ground. The small nation took off, walking behind all the seats and trying to figure out which one was France's. To him, all the nations looked the same from the back. He crashed into someone's leg and craned his neck back to look up into two bright green eyes.

"Asher, _mi hermano! _What are you doing?" asked Spain, scooping the blond up and nuzzling his cheek. Arthur couldn't help the small giggle before he attempted to lean way.

"No! That tickles!" he laughed. Antonio beamed at him.

"Ah, you're _muy lindo_," he cooed, smiling slightly. Arthur furrowed his brow as he tried to translate what had been said.

"_Lindo?_" he asked slowly. The Spanish nation's eyes lit up.

"_Si!_ It means cute!" he said cheerily. England flushed slightly.

"Thank you. Can you take me to Scotland please? I can't find him," he said morosely. Spain practically squealed.

"_Si! _Don't look so sad, _hijo_. I'll take you to him," said the brown haired man, glancing around the room and locating Allistor. They were on their way to that side when America suddenly appeared.

"Hey Asher, buddy! Why are you with Spain?"

"He's taking me to Scottie."

Antonio handed the child to America. "You can take him, _mi hermano._ And I'll see you soon, _hijo!_ _Adios!_"

Once the man was gone, England and America glanced at each other. The smaller nation sighed, resting his head against the other blond's neck.

"I want to go back home. I'm bored out of my bloody wits."

"Language. And you know that the meeting will last a while. Just wait another twenty minutes. Then we've got lunch break."

"Can we go get a burger?"

"_You're _going to eat a burger, Artie?"

"Just shut up. It's this stupid body that's making me want disgusting, unhealthy, repulsive, gross, stupid, delicious, yucky, food."

"Did you just say deli-"

"America? Shut up before I get Russia to kill you."

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><p><strong>How was it? I've still got to complete the meeting. And I somehow love having Russia be all nice to Child!England…I have no idea why though. Please Reivew!<strong>

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	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for all the reviews guys! They were pretty awesome! Please don't forget to keep reviewing!**

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><p>It was the lunch break. All the nations rushed to England like moths to light. The poor toddler was surrounded by all the older nations who insisted on picking him up, talking to him and asking France all sorts of questions on whom England had knocked up and who were currently taking care of the child. Currently, 'Asher' was being cuddled by an ecstatic Feliciano.<p>

"Ve! You're so cute! _Cosi carino, _right Germany?" he cooed, looking over to his blond friend who looked a bit unsure on what to do. Arthur blinked back, looking the very definition of innocence as he grabbed hold of the Italian's curl and tugged on it. Yes, he knew what it did. He _had_, after all, taken care of many colonies before. The effect was immediate. Feli jumped and let out a squeal, dropping the toddler who Canada caught.

"Are you okay, Asher?" asked Matthew worriedly. Arthur nodded, grumbling and squirming until he was put down. Italy was apologizing profusely to Canada. Britain took that moment to sneak off outside. Nobody noticed his absence. The child let out a sigh, wandering down the empty hallway to the water dispenser, yanking a cup out and filling it with water before sitting down on the ground to sip at it. Being a child was getting tiring. His mind wandered to his fairy friends before he sighed again and looked around. Why had no one come to get him? As soon as he thought that, a familiar blond was walking towards him, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay, Arttur? Why are you out 'ere by yourself?" he inquired, crouching down in front of the little nation. The green eyed boy shrugged, standing up and stretching.

"I was getting a bit tired from all the attention. I don't like it," he admitted, letting Francis pick him up and carry him back to the room. The Frenchman chuckled, stepping into the room and instantly attracting all attention to him.

"Asher!" squealed most of the nations, rushing to him. France set the child down, getting a glare from the Englishman as he was cooed over and asked questions.

"Asher! Where's your father? Do you miss him? Do you miss your mother? Where were you living? Has Francis done anything to you?" were some of the questions he was asked. Thinking quickly, the boy put on a teary face, internally smirking as he caught his brother's gaze.

"M-my d-daddy couldn't come," he said, sniffing and making a film of fake tears cover his eyes. All the nations were eating the story up. Even America looked a bit upset. England almost rolled his eyes.

"A-and m-my m-mum went t-to live w-with the angels. T-that's wh-what Francis said," he continued, sniffling and looking at the ground. The adults cooed, offering condolences and hugs to the small boy.

France blinked. He hadn't known that _England _could act that well. Allistor seemed more used to it. The Scottish man moved forward, picking the child up.

"I think tha's enough," he growled, daring anyone to disobey him. All the nations nodded, letting him leave with a sobbing, fake of course, Arthur. Once they were outside, England looked up and grinned at Scotland.

"How was it?"

"Grea'. I think 'Mercia almos' believed it too."

Arthur snorted and looked over his brother's shoulder to find France, Canada and America following them. "They're here," he informed the redhead. He got a snort in reply.

"That was very good, Arthur," complimented Matthew, giving his ex-caretaker a smile. The toddler rolled his eyes.

"That was nothing. I've done better. Are we going to McDonalds now?"

Francis made a face, walking alongside Allistor while Alfred let out a whoop.

"Hell yeah!"

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><p>After an unhealthy meal of McDonalds, in which everyone except America and England complained, the nations trudged back to the conference room the rest of the meeting went by in a blur and soon they were back at France's house.<p>

France sat on the couch, watching a cookery show intently with England sitting on his lap. The doorbell suddenly rang, making them both jump.

"Get the door America!" they both chorused, returning to watching the telly after sharing brief smiles. The blond pouted, making his way down the stair and to the door. He sighed and threw the door open, his eyes widening an then narrowing as he saw the nation in front of him. Bright green eyes stared at him as the person narrowed his own eyes.

"G'day mate."

Australia. Alfred was tempted to slam the door shut in his face. Everyone knew that they didn't get along well. The Australian man shouldered his way in, striding into the living room and grinning widely.

"Hey France! Did you see Mum anywhere? I haven't seen him the whole day," he greeted, striding into the living room.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME MUM!" snapped England before he could think about it. France sighed looking down at the child who had turned red.

"Blimey."

"I knew it!" said the Australian brightly, jumping to England and crouching down in front of him. "How could I not recognize my own Mum!"

Britain sighed, glaring at his ex-colony and leaning back against France.

"Why are you here, twit?" he asked slowly. Kyle just gave him a look.

"I came to check on you. Couldn't leave you with the yobbo and the lair. Canada's a whole different matter though," he replied. America wandered into the room, glaring at the Aussie and his English. Hell, even _he_ couldn't understand half the things the man just said.

"Speak proper English, boy. I can't believe both of you butchered my language," grumbled Arthur, ignoring the snickers of the man in front of him. Kyle ruffled the Englishman's hair.

"I think we can both agree, that you're the boy right now Mum," he said, laughing. France chuckled too and set England down so he could stand up.

"Are you going to stay a while, Kyle? You are? Well, I suppose I can start on ze dinner-"

"No! I thought we should all have a Barbie!"

Matthew, Alfred and Francis stared at him. America furrowed his eyebrows, getting ready to ask if the man was talking about the girl doll, when England sighed.

"A Barbie? Really? Didn't I teach any of my colonies English properly? Honestly, all of you just ruin it," mumbled the child, before brightening a bit.

"And I'll agree to the Barbie idea if you give me the best…snag, right?" he said, looking up hopefully. Australia smiled slightly, scooping up his Mum and walking outside, grinning widely.

"Sure thing, Mum! Best snags for you! OI! Francis! Pull out the barbecue, will you? And get the best snags you've got! We'll have a bash!"

Allistor made his way downstairs to find three nations staring blankly at the back yard.

"Di' tha' Aussie come 'ere?" he growled, catching sight of said Aussie chasing his little brother across the grass. America pouted.

"He wants a Barbie. Whatever that's supposed to mean. I'm going outside. It's dangerous to leave Iggy with that man." With that the blue eyed blond rushed out to where his mentor and the older blond were, joining them in a game of tag. Scotland snorted.

"Barbie. Let's get the barbecue out then. He'll want sausages too."

"A Barbie is a barbecue? Zat man is so _bizarre_…"

"I know, eh?"

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><p><strong>What do you guys think? Love it? Hate it? Please review!<strong>

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	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews! Here's the next chapter! And please keep reviewing! I love them!**

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**DISCLAIMER: I, unfortunately, do not own Hetalia…**

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><p>America was glowering at Australia, both the men glaring at each other from over England's head. The toddler sighed, glancing at France pleadingly. The Frenchman caught his gaze as he pulled out sausage and managed a sympathetic smile.<p>

"Can both you gits stop with all the glaring? Honestly, its making me feel weird," mumbled England, glaring up at both his ex-colonies. Australia turned his gaze down, an irritated frown still on his face before it slowly melted. He ruffled the child's blond hair and grinned slightly.

"Sorry Mum. Didn't mean to make you feel left out. Its all that wowser's fault."

England sighed again, standing up and putting his hands on his hips, glaring at the two currently older blonds, huffing. Both the men hid grins, trying to put up a serious face in front of their mentor. The Brit sighed, rolling his eyes and turning to march back to his brother.

"Do you think we ticked him off?" asked America, glancing at the green eyed man next to him. Australia chuckled, flashing the American a smile before turning to study England who was sitting on Canada's shoulders and laughing about something.

"Nah. I don't think he's angry at us. He probably just wanted some attention."

They both watched as Allistor chuckled and said something to his younger brother, ruffling his hair as he put a sausage on the grill.

Kyle jumped up, offering a hand to the American and hauling him up as they walked back to the other.

"I'll take care of the barbie! It was my idea! And Mum loves the snags I make!" he announced, snatching the spatula from Francis and whistling merrily.

"Bung another snag will you?" he called out. England sighed but complied tossing another sausage. Alfred sputtered.

"_Bung?_ Is that even a word? Dude, you've totally messed up the language!" he exclaimed.

England snorted, rolling his eyes at Canada.

"Alfred, Alfred, Alfred…you've ruined the language too, you know. Plus, bung _is_ a word."

"Dude, it doesn't even sound like one. And I never understand what the hell he says anyways!"

Australia glowered a bit, checking on the sausages while maintaining a glare at America. Before he could say anything, France had butted in, making some random perverted comment that made everyone laugh and blush.

"Are they done yet? I'm hungry," complained Arthur, crossing his arms and pouting. Kyle chuckled, putting a sausage on a plate and handing it to the child.

"First one for you, Mum."

"I'm not your Mum!" Despite that, England ate the sausage. He smiled appreciatively, sitting down contently in Canada's lap as he ate. The other smiled fondly at him as they made more and ate themselves, talking and laughing.

"Can I go to bed now? I'm tired," mumbled England quietly, yawning and looking with sleepy eyes at Allistor and Francis. America took out a camera of nowhere and took a photo.

"You look adorable, Iggy!"

"Don-t call me Iggy!"

France smiled and scooped the child up. It must have been tiring for him. He was still a toddler after all. Scotland opened the back door for him, escorting the Frenchman inside. All the former colonies looked at each other, settling into an awkward silence for a while.

"How many people actually know of this?" asked Australia, glancing towards the house to indicate what exactly 'it' was. America shrugged, glancing at his brother who was prodding a sausage with an unreadable look on his face.

"Only us. No one else figured it out yet."

There was another short silence before Matthew finally spoke up.

"We have to find a way to get Arthur back to normal. I think we should contact someone who uses magic or search Arthur's spell books."

"But he's cute like this!" whined Alfred, understanding why they needed to get the blond back to his usual form, but still a bit worried that once they did then Arthur would become his usual independent self. His usual independent and grumpy self. And right now, the American rather enjoyed the dependency the child had on them. Suddenly, he and the other two let out sighs in complete sync. As if they all were thinking the same thing.

"I understand why Arthur didn't want us to leave," they chorused at the same time.

Kyle snorted with sight amusement. Oh well. At least all of them understood then. France strolled outside, setting down an armload of books and gesturing to the books.

"_Prenez un_. We 'ave a lot to go through."

Scotland exited the house with another four books and set them down.

"Some o' them migh' be in old English or Irish. You can gi' those uns ta me."

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><p>They searched through the different books on various plants and animals and where they could be found. The ex-colonies were rather surprised with the strange names they found in the book.<p>

"Did you know there's a thing called _Rainbow spritznel?_"

"No way! I have the _horn of a narwhal_ in this book."

"What the hell is a narwhal? It says here _scale of a hippocampus tail_. Isn't hippocampus a seahorse?"

And more exclamations like that. Soon it was dark and they had to shift their work inside. All of them spread put in the living room, sprawling across various surfaces. They read quietly, occasionally letting out the cry of surprise at something they hadn't heard of.

"AHA! I foun' out whir we ken ge' the _extinct Prussian albino boar_ hair," said Allistor joyfully. All the nations turned to him.

"Isn't it…extinct?" asked Kyle, lifting his gaze from his book to look at the red haired man. Said man just rolled his eyes.

"Well o' course it is. But tha' doesn't mean I don't know whir ta get it from," he scoffed. France raised his eyebrows.'

"And where can we get it from?"

"Isn't it obvious? The Prussian o' course. 'e 'as a _Prussian albino boar_ 'ead hanging o'er 'is fireplace," said the Scot matter-of-factly.

There was a short silence and then a cheer.

"One down, two to go," said America, ticking off _Prussian Albino Boar Hair_ from the list of ingredients. Speaking of which…

"Hey Alfred! Can you say all the ingredient names again so we can lau- I mean, remember them?" asked Kyle, grinning. America grinned a bit too.

"Right. Well, here goes. We've got:

_Prussian Albino Boar Hair_

_Crystal Songbird Feather_

_Horn Of A Narwhal_

_Earwax Of Newt_

_Pinstriped Pajamas_

_Fairy Dust_

_Flower Of Vodak_

_Ground Teeth Of Shark_

And last of all, _Poison Of Rattlesnake_

That's the whole list," said Alfred. Kyle sighed.

"I can get the rattlesnake poison and the shark teeth but-"

"Don' worry lad. Arthur already 'as the poison and the shark teeth. An' the fairy dust I can get. Wha' we need ta fin' is the _Vodak Flower_ an' the _narwhal horn_."

France sighed too, leaning back. "Arthur 'as newt earwax? What exactly does one need zat for?"

"Fer makin' a hate potion," replied the Scotsman seriously. All the nations jumped when they heard a thump. Their gazes swiveled to the staircase where England was standing, one hand holding the banister and the other rubbing at his left eye.

"What are you all doing?" he asked, looking at the mess of books that the Frenchman had. He was rather surprised to find half of the books that were lying around. Well, not that surprised since he knew Allistor must have brought them.

"W e were searching for the different ingredients needed for transforming you back," said Alfred with a smile. The child yawned, accepting the answer and walking over to France to curl up next to him.

"Go ahead. I'll just sleep here…for….a…while….,' he trailed off, already asleep and barely aware of the fond gazes he got.

"I found out about the _vodak flower_," said Matthew quietly, attracting the gazes to himself. Australia nodded for him to continue.

"It's a flower that is rather common in Russia. It grows in the mountains. The thing is, it can only survive in cold climate and it _melts _if we take it to a warmer place," recited the Canadian, looking up from his book with a slight grimace.

"The other thing is that it's not sold anywhere else because the Russian's don't export it at all. They know that it has some magical properties. Like apparently, if you put it in vodka, it gives the vodka a particular taste. Hence the name _vodak_. Its real name is _helicia florentis_." There was another silence as this piece of information was absorbed.

"And Narwhals are practically extinct. Ze last one was…centuries ago. Unless…" France trailed off, picking up his phone and calling someone. There was a silence and then he started talking, well whispering would be more accurate, to someone about the fate of the narwhals. When he hung up he looked quite proud.

"And we 'ave a narwhal 'orn too, _mes amis_."

They cheered quietly and put the books away, ready to get a start on the ingredients the next day. France carried England to his room and was setting him in his bed when the boy opened his eyes.

"France? Can I go sleep in Australia's room today? It's been really long since I last saw him," slurred the child sleepily. The Frenchman nodded, gently carrying England to the Australian's room and handing him to the man after planting a small kiss on the child's head, before taking his leave.

Kyle smiled down at his older brother, who was younger right now, and got under the covers, pulling the boy closer to himself.

"G'night Mum."

"Good night Kyle."

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><p><strong>What do you think? Good? Bad? Reviews please!<strong>

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	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

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**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia. But I wish I did…**

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><p>When England awoke the next day it was to find himself in someone else's bed and that same person snoring. The toddler cautiously turned to study his companion, a small smile flitting across his face when he noticed it was Australia. The ex-colony was sleeping peacefully, his lips parted and snring as he lay on his back. Sitting up Arthur yawned, peering over the side of the bed with a bit of confusion. Since when had his beds become this…<em>tall<em>? _Okay, so disembarking from the bed didn't seem like a good idea_, he mused. The child suddenly had an evil grin on his face as he turned to the blond man next to him. Without warning, England leaped onto Australia's stomach, laughing as the man's eyes snapped open.

"Morning Aussie!" he giggled, smirking a bit as the other blond looked down at him with a dazed expression. About two seconds later he seemed to remember that his 'Mum' was a child. Australia smiled slightly and sat up, one hand on Arthur's back to keep him from tipping over.

"G'day Mum. How was your sleep?"

England shrugged, tilting his head up to look at the Australian.

"I want to go downstairs," he stated, looking at the currently older nation hopefully. Kyle frowned and glanced over the side of the bed, raising his eyebrows.

"And why can't you? There aren't any monsters under the bed," he said. England flushed slightly and pouted.

"It's too high."

There was a second of silence before Australia chuckled, grinning down at England.

"You're too cute," he said with a laugh, scooping the child up and setting him on the floor. The island nation glared and crossed his arms, passing the man sulky glares.

"Whatever. I'm going to the kitchen." With that the toddler stalked off to the staircase. He carefully made his way down and immediately walked into someone's legs. The little blond fell to the ground with a yelp, sitting up and craning his neck back to look at the nation. _Why did everyone have to be so goddamn __**tall**_? It was France. The Frenchman raised his eyebrows before crouching down in front of him and helping him up.

"_Desole_. Are you okay?"

"What does it look like?" shot back Arthur. The blue eyed man chuckled and ushered the Englishman to the kitchen. He sat the child on the counter and leaned against the stove, raising his eyebrows.

"What do you want to eat? Anyzing _speciale_?"

Arthur blinked and thought about it before shrugging.

"Aything would be good. Just quickly, I'm starving."

France mock saluted him and got to work on whipping up a nice breakfast, complete with a baguette. When England saw the bread he chuckled, swinging his legs and watching the Frenchman waltz around the kitchen.

"Do you have anything sweet?" he suddenly asked Francis, flushing a bit. He rarely ate chocolate or the likes when he was older, but it seemed that now he seemed to have the strange cravings for that too. Strange.

"_Mais oui, bien sur._ What would you like? _Chocolat?_ _Glace_? Or should I get you some cake?"

"Did someone say ice cream?" asked a new obnoxious voice. The Englishman groaned, looking at America irritably.

"It's for me."

"But you don't even _like_ ice cream, Iggy!"

"Well now I do!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh!"

"You both are so childish. You shouldn't argue about some _ice cream_. What are you making France?"

"_Petit dejeuner_. And croissants. Zey are really good."

"You don't have Vegemite by any chance do you?"

All the nations turned to stare at Kyle in horror.

"You _eat_ that-that…_toxic waste_?" asked America incredulously. England didn't seem to be affected that much. Australia raised an eyebrow looking at the incredulous faces of France, America and Canada.

"It's not toxic or waste, I can assure you that."

England nodded agreeingly.

"It's not that bad," he remarked. France rushed to the toddler as Scotland entered the kitchen.

"Are you sure,_ Angleterre_? I zink you might get _food poisoning_ from eating zat stuff!" he exclaimed, checking over the child. Britain swatted his hands away, rolling his eyes.

"I ate it ages ago and nothing happened to me. There's nothing bad about it. You all just don't know the values of healthy food," he remarked, looking at Allistor. "Tell them Scotty. Vegemite isn't bad."

The Scottish man grunted and sat down at the table, eyeing his brother and then the green eyed blond man.

"Aye. It ain' tha' bad. Cer'nly not good eitha."

France gasped, still looking at Arthur unbelievingly.

"Well, at least I explains why 'e can eat your food. If someone can survive vegemite zen zey can definitely survive your food. It is heaven compared to zat nasty glop," he said seriously, turning back to the stove to stir something. Australia snorted.

"You people are just weak. You have to be wild. Taste wild food. Taste vegemite. You'll just love it," he stated, sitting down at the table and watching Arthur pick up a baguette.

The toddler experimentally swung the baguette and let out a delighted sound.

"It's like a sword!" he exclaimed, swinging it around and carefully aiming before throwing it at Alfred. The American yelped as the baguette hit him in the stomach and knocked the air out of him. _Holy crap that bread didn't even snap_, he thought with disbelief. America looked up slowly before standing up and letting out a war cry, rushing towards England and trying to hit him with the bread. Unfortunately for him, Alfred wasn't really good at sword fighting, a fact that he just realized. And even though Arthur was younger than him right now, the little child was easily fending off his attacks with a baguette of his own. All the nations watched with amusement as America fought against England, attempting to strike him while the island nation taunted him as he nimbly brushed the attacks aside. France finally had enough and got their attention, mumbling stuff about them 'abusing the bread' and how 'it is a crime zat is punishable'. Arthur pouted and smirked at Alfred.

"I told you that you should practice fencing. It isn't an 'old people' thing," said the child snootily, yelping as the American nation pinched his nose. Alfred smirked and backed away as the child spouted curses and glared at him, unable to get down from the counter. Allistor took pity on his little brother and scooped him off the counter, setting him on the floor. Arthur immediately went to America's leg and kicked it as hard as he could, scowling and stomping over to France and holding his arms out. While Matthew snickered at his brother's pain, France picked the child up and set him on a chair. The rest of breakfast went by semi-normally, only broken by a small competition between Australia and America to see who could stuff the most pieces of baguette in their mouth. It didn't end that well. They had to manually extract the pieces of bread, a rather daunting task. After breakfast, the nations decided to lounge around, relaxing. There was going to be another meeting the next day so most of them took the time to go over their notes and take new ones. And Allistor had left some time ago to go get something or the other from a shop. That left England alone.

England sighed, bored of playing alone and playing with his magical friends. Being bored, he decided to explore the house. The toddler went up the stairs and stopped in front of the first door. After a few tries, he managed to get the door open and strolled inside. Nothing much aside from dust and old clothes. He rummaged through the chests of clothes and smiled.

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><p>France yawned, putting his notes down and stretching, leaning back in his armchair and looking around. He was sitting with the others in the living room. America and Australia were playing video games and Canada was reading his own notes. <em>Something's missing<em>… he mused. "Where's Arthurr?" he suddenly realized. At that moment there was a growl and a child stomped down the stairs, wearing an oversized pirate uniform with the big hat slipping down his eyes. Arthur scowled from under the hat, pushing the hat out of his eyes and pointing a dagger at Francis.

"Die scurvy dog!" he barked. All the nations paused, turning to stare at the Englishman before breaking out into cooes. Arthur didn't seem to like his response. Apparently he didn't _want _to appear cute. The green eyed boy scowled, stomping down the rest of the stairs in frustration and waving his dagger at America.

"On your feet, man! Help me tie up these wankers! We'll need their supplies!" he announced. Alfred gaped at him then stood up, saluting.

"Yes sir, Mr. Captain Sir! Haha guys! He chose _me!_ "

With that America held up imaginary rope when England shoved actual rope in his hands. The child stalked over to the now tied up nations, pushing the hat out of his eyes again. He paused in front of France, smirking.

"So, Frog, we meet again," he said, sneering. France played along by scowling and tugging at his ropes. Yes, America _still_ didn't know how to tie well. The Frenchman sneered back and let Arthur threaten him with the dagger. It was kind of funny how the child still didn't reach his height even with Francis sitting down.

"We do, _mon cher_. You're looking…young," he remarked, smiling slightly at the pout he received. England brandished the dagger in the Frenchman's face.

"Shut up! I'll have your tongue!" snapped the child. France sneered a bit more before complying and shutting up. He watched as England stalked in front of them, glaring at each one of them and stopping in front of Australia, trailing the tip of his dagger under the Australian man's chin. It was a wonder how much he resembled his older pirate form. Except he was cute right now. Kyle stared at Arthur defiantly, raising his chin to allow more space for the dagger.

"So Cap'n Kirkland? Heard a lot about you," he drawled. The child rolled his eyes, smirking.

"You should have, git. I _am _rather famous."

"Big noting yourself, aren't you?"

"What? You Aussies and the way you destroyed my language."

"Pommie."

"Did you just call Arthurr an _apple_?"

"_Non Papa_, Pommie is his way of saying Englishman."

England scowled and would've said something rather inappropriate for his current age when the door bell rang. America went to get it, opening the door to find a woman standing there. She tried to peer past the tall American, saying something in rapid french. _Did everyone sound perverted in France no matter what they asked_? mused the nation before holding a hand up in front of the woman. She stopped abruptly and blinked before tilting her head to one side. Now that he thought about it, Alfred thought she looked a bit angry. Maybe she came to beat France up…

"_Je voulais parler aver Bonnefoy," _she said slowly. America blinked before replying just as slowly.

"I don't understand French."

They stared at each other blankly for a second before Alfred sighed and called out to his brother. But it was Arthur who came up, still dressed in the pirate clothes. The woman looked down at him and her scowl changed into a charming smile. She cooed and said random french words, crouching in front of England and pinching his cheeks. The boy bore her for a while, forcing a smile before yelping as someone picked him up. He recognized the familiar arms and turned slightly to stare into Francis' blue eyes. They were filed with a bit of amusement and something that said '_please-play-along-or-I'll-be-castrated'_. Arthur gave him the tiniest of nods and turned back to look at the woman. She was saying something in rapid french, and the words that Arthur picked up rather disturbed him. Canada and Australia had also come and were standing beside Alfred, with the Canadian man whispering translations to the other two. They had strange expressions on their faces, somewhere between shocked, amused, disgusted and freaked out.

"-_il set mon fils,"_ explained France, gesturing to Arthur again. The island nation dutifully put on the most cutest and innocent face he could muster, bringing up his french and smiling charmingly.

"_Bonjour mademoiselle_," he said cheerily, one arm around Francis' neck to support himself. The woman, who's name was apparently Claire or something typically french, smiled slightly before glaring at Francis. She snapped something else, that was a really brutal insult that made Canada flinch, and turned on her heel to flounce away.

Britain turned to the ex-guardian and pushed the pirate hat away from his eyes.

"_Est-ce que nous pouvons allez dans la maison maintenant?_" he asked, grinning at the shocked looks on everyone's faces.

"_O-ouais. Bien sur_," stammered Francis, leading them all back inside and setting the toddler down. The little blond yawned, pushing the hat away from his eyes again and bringing a hand up to his mouth.

"I'm tired," he stated, rubbing his eyes. Francis smiled down at the child and took him to his room, all the other younger nations following him. They watched the toddler fall asleep, all of them sitting quietly and staring at him in amazement.

The door of the room swung open and Scotland waled inside, clutching the bag in his hands more tightly and frowning.

"Why are y'all starin' a' me brotha like pedophiles?"

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><p><strong>Sorry for the long wait! What do you guys think? Reviews please!<strong>

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	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Sorry for how long it took to update! My exams are coming up soon and I might not be able to update properly. Anyways, please review!**

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><p>It was time for the another world meeting. France hurried around his house, making sure everyone was dressed properly. England was munching on a croissant and sitting on the kitchen table, watching the others run around like a bunch of headless chickens, something he pointed out.<p>

"Arthur, are ye ready?" called Allistor, puling his boots on and looking at his brother. The toddler nodded, brushing his clothes clean of the croissant crumbs and holding his arms out. Matthew was the one who picked him up.

"Come on England, we have to get to the car," he said, rushing outside with the child. Arthur pouted, not liking the fact that he wasn't even being allowed to walk, but let himself be put in the car. That's when he saw the booster seat.

"Who's that for?" he asked, pointing at the seat. America laughed.

"Who do you think it's for Artie? It's for you of course!"

There was a silence and then…

"NO WAY! I AM _NOT_ SITTING ON THAT! NO_NONONO__**NONONO**_!"

All the adults were trying to force the child into the seat but he was quick on his feet and had managed to scale a tree and was sitting high up where nobody could reach him.

"_Angleterre! _We are going to be late! Come down zis instant!" called France, frowning up at the child. But Arthur was stubborn. He refused to come down. He merely stuck his tongue out and glowered.

"I'm not coming down! I'm not going to sit in that…_thing_."

Australia sighed before shoving the sleeves of his uniform up to his elbows and hauling himself up into the tree. All the nations stared at him worriedly. England yelped, scrambling further up into the tree to escape the Australian. Kyle finally reached a point where he had a risk of breaking a branch if he tried to climb up. He paused and then whistled, his koala scampering up the tree to go to Enlgand. The blond child whimpered as the koala reached closer, trying to back away, and pressed himself against the tree trunk. _Not good. So not good, _he thought to himself. The koala, with its evil looking red eyes, approached himi, making weird noises. Arthur let out a shout, scaring the koala. It paused then turned and scampered down the tree again. Kyle, from his point in the tree, sighed, looking up at the child.

"Come on, Mum. You can't stay up there forever," he reasoned. The child glowered down at him, wriggling his shoe off and letting it fall, satisfied when it hit Australia's shoulder on the way down.

"No! I'm not going to sit in that bloody _baby seat_. It's degrading!" he called back, swinging his feet casually. Allistor growled.

"Arthur Kirkland, ye come doown this instant!" he barked. The little Englishman shuddered and cautiously made his way down the tree, yelping when Australia caught him and got off the tree in a leap. The landing jarred the child but he didn't complain. Once he was on the ground, well technically in Kyle's arms, all the older nations hurried to the car, strapping England into the booster seat and seating themselves.

Canada looked at the child sitting next ot him. The car was almost entirealy silent and the boy was staring out of the window, his eyes filmed with unshed tears but his face completely neutral. Matthew sighed, reaching out and ruffling the lttle blond's hair. Enland turned to look at him, blinking and forcing a smile on.

"Yes Mattie?" he asked. The Canadian man let a slightly worried look rest on his face.

"Are you okay Arthur?" he whispered quietly. Allistor and Francis had begun to talak in the front seats. Alfred was listening to music. The island nation sniffed and let a tear roll down his cheek.

"I don't want to go to the meeting anymore," he mumbled, blinkin and wiping at his eyes. Canada almost cooed but instead gave him a hug, letting the few tears splotch his shirt.

"Don't cry Arthur. You know this is for your own safety," he said quietly. The child gave him a watery glare.

"Do you know how it feels like to be shoved int a baby seat? I'm not this small. I can take care of myself," replied the toddler just as quietly, sniffing and wiping away the tears. Matthew produced a tissue, wiping aaway the tears and planting a kiss on Arthur's head.

"We know you can, Arthur. It's just when you're so small, we don't want anything hurting you. We feel better knowing you're under our protection" he explained. England sniffed again, blowing his nose on the tissue and managing a smile.

"Thanks Mattie. Youre the best."

The Canadian seemed surprised but he smiled back, ruffling the green eyed blond's hair and watching him return to staring out te window. America looked over at his brother, raising an eyebrow at the small smile.

"What's up with you, Mattie?" he asked curiously.

His brother gave him a small smirk as he pushed his glasses up.

"I'm the best."

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><p><strong>Once they arrived to the meeting…<strong>

Arthur was once again surrounded by older nations while germnay shouted for order. Apparently, they called dibs on who he would be sitting with in order. First he was seated with Italy brothers. Surprisingly they were quite nice. Even Romano.

"Ve! Are you hungry England? Do you want some pasta?"

"Leave him alone, you idiot. If you need anything then you tell us, okay England?"

And then after that he was forced to suffer through some time with Spain. The Spanish man thought anything and everything he did was cute.

"Aw! You're so cute _carino_!"

And then he was finally, _finally,_ with Russia. He was rather relieved, no matter how much the Russian man could terrify. All the violet eyed man did was hand him the pipe and let him scare people with it.

"Become one with Russia, _da?_"

Arthur blinked and was about to say something when Belarus came over, an evil look in her eyes.

"Yes. And then you and I can marry, right brother?" she said sweetly. Ivan had an almost fearful look on his face.

"It is oay. England doesn't have to become one with Russia right now," he said, snatching his pipe back to fend from his sistr and letting Arthur walk away.

The whole meeting went by with Arthur sitting next to someone or the other but never with any of his current caretakers. It was only at lunch time that he walked into France.

"Zere you are, _mon cher_! 'ow was your day?" asked tge Frenchman cheerfully. The toddler crossed his arms and walked away, going to Canada instead and holding his arms out. America was a bit put out.

Matthew picked Arthur up, raising an eyebrow as the chld whispered something in his ear before nodding.

"I'm going for lunch, eh? See you later," he announced, walking off with the toddler. Everyone was surprised.

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><p><strong>At Pancake House,<strong>

Matthew watched the tiny nation opposite him munch through a stack of pancakes.

"Why didn't oyu want to eat with the others?" he asked. England looked up from his third pancake, maple syrup dribbling down his chin which Canada quickly wiped.

"Because they're all being mean," he replied, returning to his food and giving Matthew a look. "Thank you for taking me here."

The older blond chuckled, eating his own pancakes.

"It was no problem."

* * *

><p><strong>At a restaurant near where the meeting was being held…<strong>

France played with his food, looking out of the window nervously.

"Why do you zink Mathieu left us like zat?" he asked worriedly, looking at Scotland like he knew the answer. The Scotsman sighed, sipping his water and glancing out the window too.

"Ye don' think tha' the little Canadian kidnapped me brotha do ye?" he asked. America snorted.

"Dude, Mattie can't kidnap anyone." Australia sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Maybe Mum's angry at us," he suggested, leaning back in his chair. Francis swore, jumping up and slamming money down on the table.

"Zen let's go to Arthurr!" And they were rushed out of the restaurant, leaving behind a confused waiter who wondered where the four had left.

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><p><strong>At the meeting…<strong>

Germany sighed. Englnad had taken refuge hiding under the table and near his feet, gripping one pant leg tightly. He really didn't know why the child was there or why all his caretakers were shooting worried looks around the room. Well, all of them except Canada. A tug on his pant leg made him glance around then lean down to look at the child. Wide green eyes stared at him.

"Germany, can you tell me where Canada is sitting?" he asked qietly. The german man looked up and locked his gaze onto Canada before looking back at the toddler.

"Fifteenth seat to my right," he grunted. The Englishman gave him a thankful look then scurried away under the table. Ludwig shook his head. Children were uncbeilevable.

Matthew was calmly taking his notes, wondering where England was hding, when a tug on his pant leg broght his attention. He ducked his head under the table and raised his eyebrows. England smiled at him.

"Can we go home Mattie? I don't feel so good," he said. The Canadian got up, quickly scooping the child out from under the table, and walked away from the room. No one noticed him…like always. Once they were out of the room, England slumped against his shoulder, closing his eyes.

"I feel weird," he mumbled. Matthew blinked, gently rubbing the child's back and getting into France's car. Good thing he'd nicked those keys. He put Arthur down in the passenger's seat and seatbelted him.

"How do you feel?"

"My head hurts and my stomach is feeling…tender."

Canada sighed. This didn't seem good. He easily pulled out form the parking lot and started the drive to France's home.

"Let's get you home, eh? I think a nap and a visit from the doctor will do you some good."

When France and the other's exited the building later, they were worried that Canada and England hadn't followed them out. That was until…

"WHERE ZE 'ELL IS MY CAR?"

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><p><strong>What do you guys think? Good? Bad? Okay? Please review!<strong>

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	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys! Sorry for the late update. I wanted to thank you all for pointing out that I accidentally wrote England instead of Asher. I was tired and I made that mistake. Sorry for confusing you guys… anyways, here's the next chapter, so please review!**

**.:|Silver|:.**

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><p>Canada paced around the living room, watching Arthur as the child gave him a weary look. He had started throwing up a few minutes ago and was looking rather pale.<p>

"How do you feel, eh?" he asked the toddler softly. England looked up at him with a watery glare and turned his head abruptly back into the bucket into which he was throwing up.

"How does it look?" he shot back once he had caught his breath. Canada felt rather sorry for him. Throwing up was never a fun business and the poor child's stomach must have been hurting. He walked around to England and gently rubbed his back, sitting down next to him and ignoring the protests of 'no you'll get some on yourself!' But the smaller blond was more tired and he gave up his protests, sighing and looking at the floor glumly.

"Why am I sick? Is it because of those burgers? I always knew those things were dangerous." Matthew chuckled, ruffling the child's hair as he leaned back into the couch and resumed rubbing Arthur's back.

"I think it could be a small stomach flu. You'll be okay in no time."

"I really hope so. And Mattie? Thank you for taking care of me." The little blond's eyes were still focused on the ground and a light blush was lighting up his cheeks. The Canadian smiled and planted a kiss on his head.

"It's my pleasure. Now, are you feeling well enough to change your clothes?"

"I think-" and he cut off as he threw up again. Canada sighed.

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

* * *

><p>About half an hour later, Matthew had the young boy clean, in fresh clothes and in bed. The Brit was lying on Canada's bed, snuggled up to Kumajirou, holding one of the bear's paws in his hands. The polar bear didn't seem to have a problem with it, so Canada saw no need to wake them both up. That, and the fact that Arthur looked adorable as he slept with the polar bear. The Canadian finally got out of the bed (he had been forced to stay there until Arthur fell asleep) and made his way downstairs, briefly wondering where the others were as he fixed himself some hot cocoa. Almost instantly, the doorbell rang and France barged in. Why he had to ring the bell when he had the key was beyond Matthew. He watched as his ex-caretaker looked around worriedly and settled his gaze on the blond in the kitchen.<p>

"Mathieu! _Mon dieu! Où est Angleterre?" _[**My god! Where is England?]**He asked quickly, in French. The other blond chuckled slightly and lowered his mug of cocoa as all the other nations tumbled in, panting and cursing at the Frenchman. Hmmm, so apparently they had ran all the way.

"_Il est dans ma chambre. __Il est malade, je pense_," **[He is in my room. I think he is sick] **he replied, leading the worried man up to his bedroom. Upon seeing Arthur sleeping with Kuma, France sagged with relief against the doorframe, letting out a breath.

"_J'etait inquiete."_ **[I was worried] **Francis fell silent before he suddenly straightened, sniffing the air delicately.

"_C'est quoi, ca? L'odeur ici…_" **[What's this? The smell here…] **he trailed off before returning his gaze to the child, his eyes softening. "_Avait-il vomir?" _**[he vomited?]**

"_Oui. Mais pas pour longtemps." _**[Yes. But not for a long time now.]**

"Can ye both speak in English?" asked a gruff voice, shoving both French-speaking nations aside and trudging over to his little brother. Allistor sat down next to the sleeping blond, gently running a hand through his hair before glancing at the francophones.

"He's sick," he noted, gently removing his hand before standing up. France and Canada watched him quietly and followed him out of the room. Downstairs, America and Australia were staring dejectedly at a piece of paper.

"What are you looking at?" Canada asked curiously, peering over their shoulders to study the paper. Kyle turned around with a rueful smile and gave it to him. It showed a detailed sketch (seemed like Arthur's drawing skills weren't all that bad) of Matthew with the words 'Best Brother Ever!' under it. The Canadian paused and then broke out into a smile, carefully putting the paper inside a spell book. Arthur had even signed his name on the bottom.

"So, he likes you over me, huh?" mused Alfred, pouting and eyes glinting. Australia merely sighed, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"Making anything for dinner, France? I don't know about you lot, but I feel like some tea. See a billy around anywhere?"

Scotland wordlessly pointed to a kettle and sat down at the table too.

"We 'ave tae get 'im some medicine," he muttered. Francis was looking worried too as he searched through some cabinets.

"_Zut!_ I only have Tylenol right now. Alfred! Get some stomach flu medicine will you? Antibiotics, I'm sure," he ordered. The American gave him a jaunty salute and practically flew out of the house, running at top speed. All of the nations in the kitchen sighed. France opened his mouth to say something when a voice cut him off.

"Mattie?" asked a quiet voice. They all turned to see Arthur standing at the kitchen door, his face pale and looking sick as he studied all the older nations. The Canadian moved to the toddler, picking him up and setting him down on the kitchen counter, resting his cheek against the child's forehead to check the temperature.

"Hmmm, you seem to have a light fever. How's the stomach going?" he asked, reaching behind the child to pull Tylenol out. England made a face, watching Matthew pour out the syrup.

"I feel better now. Do I have to drink that?"

"Yes. It's not that bad."

All the other nations present were watching them interact with small smiles on their faces. France finally appeared in front of the young blond, smiling slightly.

"_Cher,_ it will be good for you. Now be a good little boy and drink it," he coaxed. Arthur sniffed the spoon suspiciously before turning his head away.

"No."

"Come on, its only one sip."

"No."

"Come on, Mum. It doesn't taste bad, honestly. And if you drink this now, we can have chocolate later on," chipped in Kyle. The little green-eyed blond glowered at him.

"Bribing me won't help. I'm not drinking that nasty stuff."

"Arthur, don' make a fuss," said Allistor from his spot. He got an evil glare and a raspberry blown at him for his trouble. Canada sighed, rolling his eyes. No wonder Alfred was such a brat. As if called upon, America dashed into the kitchen, breathing heavily and proudly holding forth a bag of the antibiotics.

"The hero has returned with the medicine!" he announced. As if it wasn't obvious. England snorted and turned his nose up.

"I'm not drinking that nasty stuff," he repeated, looking at Matthew with wide eyes. Oh. So he was going to pull the angel look.

"Please Mattie. Can I please not drink it?" he wheedled, doing the full wide-eyes-cute-pout thing. It was working for France, America and Australia, definitely. Canada and Scotland were a bit more immune.

"No Arthur. You have to drink it. If you don't then you'll have to take pills instead." England wrinkled his nose and then looked at his older brother, managing to look like a complete angel. You could practically see the halo over his head.

"Please Scottie? Pretty please?" he pleaded. Allistor rolled his eyes.

"Nay. Ye have tae drink it." Canada got a slightly evil look on his face, before he calmly put the medicine away.

"Its okay, Arthur. You don't have to drink it," he said, putting the syrup. All the nations stared at him as if he were crazy. Well, except England. He was glad. He bounced up and hugged Canada's neck, nuzzling into it with a content smile.

"You're great, Mattie! Can I have some tea?"

France noticed the gleam in the Canadian's eye and decided to ignore it. Matthew had a plan. He scooped England up, planting a kiss on the little boy's cheek as he took him to the living room.

"'ow about you and I watch some TV while Allistor makes you some tea, hmm?"

"Okay!"

Canada smirked and turned to the others still in the room.

"I'm going to put the medicine in his tea and tell him its flavored," he announced. All of them stared at him like he was crazy.

"Mattie, you're absolutely bonkers! I love it!" exclaimed Australia cheerily, giving the Canadian a hearty pat on the back before heading to the living room.

"I'll go keep Mum distracted. You all make sure the plan works," he called over his shoulder. America pouted and moved to watch as Allistor made tea. Canada was taking out the correct dosage of Tylenol.

"Look! It's a fairy!" England suddenly exclaimed, scrambling up and pointing to the window from France's lap. France chuckled and held the child carefully so he wouldn't fall off. He peered at the window and blinked. He thought he caught a small glimmer, but wasn't too sure.

"Oh, and what does it look like?" he asked the toddler with a smile. England turned to him and Australia with bright eyes.

"She's really pretty! She has silver hair, and green eyes and she's wearing a really pretty pink dress," he described, holding a hand out to the air. The fairy flitted forwards and sat on his hand. Suddenly Scotland poked his head out of the kitchen, eyes narrowing at the fairy he saw.

"Arthur! Tha's not a fairy!" he warned, mumbling something in another language under his breath. The fairy's mouth opened in a snarl, revealing pointed teeth as she flew away quickly. Arthur blinked and pouted before sitting back down on France's lap and frowning at the TV.

"When will the tea be done?"

"Another minute," called Canada. The child got a suspicious look on his face but ignored it, instead deciding to listen to one of Australia's drawling songs. Francis smiled to himself. Child Arthur was so much easier to handle. He was quite trusting and not that hyper. Just…perfect. He was about to say something when Canada walked into the room with the tea, and coffee, and set it down.

"There you go. Its hot, Arthur," he said. England scrambled off his lap and went to the tea, holding the cup carefully and taking a sniff of the air. He frowned slightly.

"This isn't Earl Grey," he remarked.

"It's flavored," replied America.

"I don't want this."

"Don't knock something until you've tried it, eh?"

"I'm not drinking it."

"_Angleterre_, just drink it. You wanted tea, did you not?"

"I wanted _normal_ tea."

"Jus' drink it, Arthur!"

"NO!" Arthur put the tea down and crossed his arms, glaring at all the adults. Kyle gave it a try.

"Come on, Mum. You'll love it," he coaxed, holding the cup out towards the child. He got a glare in return. Arthur's brother got a scowl on his face as he glared down at him.

"Are ye goin' tae drink tha' or do ye want me tae make ye drink it?" he growled. Arthur simply turned his head away, is lips sealed.

"Arthurr, just drink it."

He got a shake of the head an answer. All the adults looked at each other and nodded. In an instant they were on him. Poor Arthur really stood no chance. France grabbed him, hugging him tightly so he couldn't move his arms and legs. Canada had the tea in hand and America and Australia were trying to get his mouth open.

"Open your mouth!" sing-songed Alfred. England hesitated before trying to bite Kyle's hand, which was coming near him. The Aussie snapped his hand back before his teeth could come down on it, looking at England in shock. He glared.

"There's something suspicious with the tea," he stated, struggling in Francis' grasp. Unfortunately for him, his brother came over and pinched his nose shut, waiting until he opened his mouth for a gasp of air. As soon as he opened his mouth, Australia took the tea and poured it down his mouth. Arthur had no choice but to swallow, which he did with great reluctance. He could taste the medicine in it. France left him and he scowled at all of them.

"You put medicine in it," he growled. America shrugged.

"Guilty as charged."

Arthur scowled then let a devious smirk flit across his face before adopting a teary-eyed look.

"Why did you do that? I w-would've taken it i-if you asked me politely," he sniffed, blinking and letting a tear trail down. All the older nations looked guilty. He mentally smirked.

"We're sorry Arthurr, but you were not taking ze medicine. 'ow about we do whatever you want for ze night, hmm?" offered Francis, feeling a bit guilty. The change was instant. Arthur's tears vanished and he grinned widely.

"Okay! I want to watch My Little Ponies! And I want Kyle to tell me a story later on. And I want you all to be my slaves!" said the child cheerily. They all stared at him, gob smacked. Arthur tugged on America's jeans, making him crouch down. Then Arthur studied him for a second before frowning and nodding.

"On your hands and knees! You'll be my horsey!"

* * *

><p>The TV blared in the background as England sat on America's back, laughing as he gripped the teen's hair and lightly kicked his sides. France smiled fondly, taking out a camera and taking a picture to remember the moment by. Next to him, looking just as fond was Allistor. They both studied the scene as Arthur almost toppled off Alfred's back as he enthusiastically crawled across the floor, making a neighing noise. Australia laughed and gently straightened Arthur up. Canada chuckled as Arthur launched himself off America's back and was caught by both Kyle and Matthew.<p>

"Now zis is a perfect family picture," mused France. The Scotsman next to him grunted.

"Aye."

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><p><strong>So what do you think? Good? Bad? Please review! Plus, I wont be updating for quite a while. Like…two weeks. Anyways, hope you enjoyed!<strong>

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	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update. My muse still hasn't returned and I'm having trouble trying to think of what to write. Anyways, I finally got this chapter done. Enjoy it!**

**.:|Silver|:.**

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><p>Francis sighed. England had finally tired out from playing 'horses' and was sleeping comfortably, nestled in Matthew's arms. Kyle and Alfred were sleeping too, sprawled across the living room floor and snoring away. The Frenchman's lips twitched slightly into a smile as he studied all the younger nations, wistfully wishing it would be like this forever. But unfortunately, he knew it wouldn't. Allistor appeared next to him, tapping France on the shoulder and successfully making him jump.<p>

"Wha' are ye doin'?"

"Wishing it would stay like zis forever. But zere is ze unfortunate fact zat Gilbert is going to arrive in a couple of minutes to bring me ze boar 'ead so I can choose ze 'air. And to meet 'Asher' of course."

The Scotsman grunted and sat down on the empty couch, watching the young blond nations turn over in their sleeps or mumble things. England had somehow managed to wriggle out of Canada's grasp and was lying on the rug, one hand gripping the material of the rug tightly and the other gripping Kyle's shirt. The Australian man turned over, his arm automatically draping over the little boy and safely cradling his head, a brief smile flickering over his lips. Just then there was a sharp knock on the door and France leaped towards it, rushing to fling it open and embrace his friend.

"_Ah, mon ami!_ _C'est bien de te voir!_ Do you 'ave ze boar 'ead?"

"_Kesesesese_! Of course I do, Franny. Vhere's Asher?" asked the Prussian man, pushing his way inside and stopping short at the sight before him. "Oh, that is cute," he mumbled, grinning at the scene. Scotland glared at the albino man, crossing his arms and tapping his foot on the floor.

"The boar head?" he growled. The albino blinked and then produced the boar head from god knows where, tossing the thing at the surprised Frenchman. Francis carefully plucked out a couple of hairs from the head, wrinkling his nose before tossing it back at the German speaking man and putting the hair in a small Ziploc bag.

"_Merci beaucoup_, Gilbert. You've 'elped us a lot," he said thankfully, putting the hair away carefully. Prussia nodded before narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Vhy did you need the hair anyvays? Are you and England planning something?"

France floundered for an answer before glancing helplessly at the red-head in the room. Scotland snorted and glanced down at 'Asher' before back at the Prussian.

"We're tryna find the wee lad's relatives," he offered gruffly, crossing his arms and glaring at the red-eyed man until he relented and put the boar head away.

"Can't Arthur take care of him?"

"We are nations, are we not, _mon ami_? A 'uman child will not be easy to take care of when 'e can die any time before us."

"True. Vell, I have to go. I promised Roddy that I'd be home qvickly," he explained, waving and showing himself out. As soon as he was gone and out of earshot, France sighed, relaxing and flopping down onto the couch. Allistor followed his example, sitting down too and yawning, running a hand through his hair. There was a matching yawn and Canada groaned as he sat up, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes sleepily. He put his glasses back on and blinked up owlishly at his father before casting a glance around the floor to locate the others.

"_Bonsoir, Papa. C'est quoi le temps?" _**[Good evening, papa. What's the time?]**

"_Hmm, c'est neuf heurs. Est-ce que tu as faim?" _**[Hmm, it's nine. Are you hungry?]**

"English would be good about now," mumbled America as he ran a hand through his hair and grinned tiredly at the nations. France gave him a small smile and repeated the question in English. He received nods from both the younger nations. Just then there was a grumble and an Australian voice cut through.

"Why are we on the rug?" it asked slowly. Green eyes, not unlike Arthur's, opened and were peering down at the toddler huddled near himself. Kyle sat up too, carefully making sure Arthur didn't wake up, before standing up and stretching, allowing his joints to crack as he yawned before offering a hand down to America and Canada. The siblings glanced at each other before grinning, each grabbing one of Kyle's hands, and pulling themselves up. Kyle yelped and tumbled to the ground as both of the other blond's stood up with laughs. He chuckled too before grabbing America's foot and tugging him into a collapsed heap too. There was a small yawn and then England was up, one small fist rubbing across an eye wearily.

"What are you all doing?" he asked, a slight tinge of amusement and irritation in his tone. American and Kyle both looked at him, then back at each other before grinning widely and leaping for the smaller child.

"TICKLE ATTACK!" they announced joyfully. The toddler barely had time for a gasp before he was tackled and tickled mercilessly by the two older blond. He let out a shriek of laughter, giggling and gasping for breath, all the while trying to get away from his two brothers.

"No! Unhand me!" he squealed, trying for a kick to dislodge either of them. He managed to hit America across the head, but it didn't do any difference. But the American let out a mock groan and fell backwards, clutching his head.

"How did you do that? Are you stronger? No, but I am the hero! And I, Omega Awesome, shall beat you, little monster child!" he said dramatically, changing his voice, pausing to strike a heroic pose, and pulling one of France's old cloak's around himself like a cape and acting all heroic. It helped that his brother had turned a fan on and pointed it at him, making the cape billow out. England watched him with wide eyes before turning to Australia and whispering something to him. They both grinned at each other as Australia got up too, reaching his hands out like claws and letting out a real-sounding growl. Guess that time spent with animals taught him something.

"Well, Omega Awesome, I, the dastardly Bob Boron and my plucky sidekick, um…Demento, will beat you!" he said in an equally ridiculous voice. Canada snickered while Arthur pouted.

"Oh yeah? Well Mattie and I will make one team," said Alfred victoriously, pulling the Canadian towards himself and eyeing him before making him wear a cloak too. "And he's gonna be _my _plucky (whatever that means) sidekick! And his name is…um….uh…Arctic Man! Yeah!" The American teen punched the air victoriously and turned to his brother, grinning hopefully. Matthew rolled his eyes while Arthur suddenly smirked evilly.

"Well, Bob Boron and I can beat you both any time!" announced the child, grinning up at all the older nations. There was silence before America scoffed.

"I've got awesome laser beams!" he said loudly, making laser beam-y noises and chasing the little child around.

"Yeah? Well take a taste of the fire!" shouted 'Demento', spreading his arms in front of himself and concentrating. Alfred reacted accordingly, yelping and jumping backwards as if he had burned his foot before turning to scowl at Kyle and Matthew.

"Arctic Man! Quickly, cover the fire with your awesome icy powers!" he said agitatedly. Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed before jumping into the act, pointing a palm at the 'fire' and making a _whoosh_ noise to indicate putting the fire out.

"Ha ha! Take that Demento!" said the Canadian triumphantly, making everyone eye him strangely. Well, except England. He was scowling. Then Australia pointed his hands forward, making guns out of them and pointing them at Canada.

"You can't get away with it Arctic Man! Suffer from my laser guns of death and destruction!" he roared, making bullet noises.

France and Scotland watched the going-ons with fond smiles and exasperated looks. The children ran around the whole living room, intently focused on their game of superheroes and super villains…which apparently the villains were winning. It seemed that England had somehow managed to defeat Canada and was cheering loudly as he watched Australia and America engage in a 'death duel', both taunting each toher in their ridiculous voices as they circled each other with imaginary weapons.

France chuckled quietly.

"Ah, if it were only like zis all ze time. It is so much fun to take care of _Angleterre_."

"Mmmh."

"Well, we still 'ave two more ingredients to go, right? I zink one was ze _narwhal 'orn_ and ze ozzer was ze…"

"_Vodak flower_. I talked to Russia aboot it. 'e said he can get it fer us."

"And I talked to…_un des mes amis_ about ze 'orn. It'll be 'ere in a couple of days."

The Scottish man nodded understandingly before looking back towards the younger blonds. 'Omega Awesome' seemed to be screeching in pain as 'acid' was dumped over his eyes, blinding him.

"Alright, _mes enfants_! Zat is enough! You all 'ave to go to bed so we can go to ze meeting tomorrow!" he said cheerily. There were groans and childish whines all around.

"Aww, _why_?"

"Can't we just stay awake for some _more _time?"

"_Please_ can we stay awake?"

And, of course, "But Francis, _pleeeaaase!_"

The Frenchman was unrelenting and he led all the youngsters to the bedrooms, taking away his cloaks and leaving Allistor with the job of cleaning up the ruined living room. All of them acted like overgrown children, with the exception of Arthur, and whined as they slouched their way to their rooms. England was wearily holding onto Canada's jeans as he followed the Canadian man into his bedroom. If Matthew was surprised that he was the person of choice, he didn't show it, helping the green-eyed toddler onto his bed and mumbling a goodnight to his _Papa_ before falling into his bed and cuddling with the younger blond. England mumbled a sleepy good night too.

France watched them both from the doorway before smiling fondly as he turned off the lights and went to check on the others. Once he made sure they all were okay, he went to the basement where Scotland was checking up on the potion, because apparently some ingredients had to be mixed and marinated. Why, he didn't really know.

The redhead was standing in the middle of the old wine casks, a book spread out over a barrel and staring at the pages with a frown.

"What 'appened?" asked Francis as he approached, tying his blonde hair. The Scotsman looked up and grunted before turning back to the book.

"Nothin'. I put tha stuff tae marinate. It'll be done in a day or two. Now all we 'ave left are tha other two which we need. After them, tha potion'll be easier," he explained. Francis nodded and sighed, leaning his head back as he slouched against the side of the cellar-turned-basement wall.

"I wish ze potion never wore off."

"Yes, well, I still wan' me brotha back. Well, I'm of tae bed. Comin'?"

The Frenchman made a dismissive noise and watched the Scotsman retreat before staring intently at the wall. Maybe asking Italy…? Italy could help him when he was in angel form. But…would England really want to stay as a child? _So confusing_. He gave up on the thoughts and made his way to his own room, yawning.

Just as he was about to fall asleep he felt someone clamber into his bed. Two someones. He cracked open an eyelid and saw both Canada and England trying their best to stay silent as they got in. he let a small smile flicker over his lips. Oh well. While England was still a child, he would do his most to make this situation memorable.

"_Bonne nuit_," two gentle voices chorused to him quietly as they settled down for the night.

* * *

><p><strong>Well? Sorry for the loooong update. My muse, who I hate very much right now, is not helping. She keeps making me have strange dreams of being murdered. Ah well, please review!<strong>

**.:|Silver|:.**


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